For Skyrim
by TalosBeWithYou
Summary: When Neva Winter-Blood saves Ulfric Stormcloak, Galmar and his nephew, Ivan. She finds herself a place in Windhelm, fighting for the rebellion. Will Ivan become a distraction? Can she finally seek the revenge she craves? Or will she simply find where she belongs? OCxOC Rated M for later chapters.
1. Prologue

_I hope everyone enjoys this story because I worked very hard writing this, it took up all of my time to be honest; but I'm quite proud of this. So this is the prologue, and any questions, please feel free to PM me/or comment!  
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_Also, some extra info about this story. The way the chapters will be working is as follows: Each chapter will be from different points of view. E.g. One chapter from Neva, one from my other OC. It will mostly be swapping between my two main characters, but I may throw some Ulfric or Galmar POV's in there, we'll have to see! _

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><p><strong>4E 188<strong>

It had been raining since midday and the dirt path in front of her house leading into town was fun and games for the other children; Neva watched as they made mud pies and wallowed about in the rain as their mothers told them to come inside. She _could_ go and play with the other children, her mother allowed her to but in Neva's mind she had more significant things to do; like wait for her brother to come home from the mine.

"Neva!" A deep voice called for her down the path, a red-headed young man covered in filth, it was her brother, Bran. While he was hastily marched down the path towards their home; she noticed parcel of some sort, wrapped in light brown cloth tied to his back. Her reactions kicked in as she hopped up into the rain to embrace him. After a few long tender moments, Bran steered her into the porch, out of the rain.

"Where have you been? I've been waiting for hours" Neva grumbled as he assembled himself on the dank porch steps.

"I had to pick up an order I had at the blacksmiths, for a little girl, I think it's her 10th name day today" he explained, while rubbing the dirt from his callous hands. A slight mischievous grin spread across his face when he spotted his younger sisters curious look. "Now, I need you to be very careful with this" He began to unwrap the parcel which was now the small patch of porch between them. The wrapping revealed a beautifully crafted bow, the intricate details were painted a dark crimson colour but the rest was black and with it, around fifty arrows. Neva slightly gasped with excitement as she picked up her new gift.

"Is it really _mine_?" She asked while inspecting the bow.

"Yes, you've been practicing with my bow for years now, I figured that you'd want your own now so you can practice when I'm away working" Bran ruffled Neva's brunette hair, and smiled at her, and she beamed back.

"Can I go try it out now? Please?" She asked her brother eagerly. Even though the smell of her mother's cooking streamed through the open window, they'd have at least some time to go down to the woods. Bran thought for a few seconds, and then stood up and stretched out his callous dirt covered hand towards Neva.

oOo

Drops of rain collected in the leaves and dropped onto the forest floor, the soft rustling of foxes could be heard as the two siblings walked side by side through the ever darkening forest. Neva held her new bow tightly, terrified that she'd lose it. Her hair was already damp from the rain, and her leather boots caked with mud.

"For the love of Talos, please tell me those aren't the new boots mother bought you…" Bran inspected his sister shoes with a concerned look; a look which soon disappeared when Neva shook her head. Bran stopped abruptly and pointed forward, he softly prodded his sister which retrieved her attention. A small deer stepped out from behind an old oak tree, its fur glimmered in the dying light.

Bran knelt down quietly and whispered to Neva "Remember what I taught you, breathe slowly, relax your shoulders and imagine yourself hitting the target" Neva unsheathed an arrow and readied her bow, breathed slowly and hit her target.

The deer collapsed with a small yelp, the arrow had pierced right through its heart. Bran stood up grinned "Well done, Nev" He paused and walked over to his sisters kill. "Why don't we take this back to mother so you can have beef steaks for tomorrows supper?"

"Mmm, my favourite" Neva giggled while Bran picked up the game and threw it over his shoulder.

"I know, that's why I said it" He smiled at her and stuck his tongue out playfully. Neva returned the gesture.

For a while they walked uphill, which was quite tedious considering the rain had made the dirt slippery and difficult to walk on. Neva fell numerous times, she was now absolutely covered in mud, and every time she fell Bran had to pick her back up again. "Can we do this again tomorrow?" Neva asked after she'd just fell again, giggling.

"I can't tomorrow, Nev." He answered, his sisters face fell into a look of disappointment and his into a look of guilt. "I'm having dinner with Patty's parents, remember?"

"Oh…why?" She asked, with a hint of sorrow. Bran sighed and stopped to move the deer onto his other shoulder.

"You know why, Nev" Bran knelt down and put the game on the ground next to him. He held Neva by both of her arms. "I love her, Nev. We've talked about this, okay? I want you to be grown up now, remember?"

"Are you still going to move to Windhelm?" Her eyes began to fill with tears.

"Yes, there is more work there, and Patty has family living there" He looked at his sister, and remembered the moment she was born, the joy he felt when he held her in his arms for the first time. He was only eight years old, but he'd never cared for anything more than his baby sister. "Listen, Nev. You are the most important thing to me, I love you more than anything, but when you get older you'll understand why I need to do this" He kissed her on her forehead and pulled the deer back over his shoulder.

"Is it because you're old?" Neva asked jokingly.

"I am _not_ old, you little menace" He shoved her playfully, and she fell into more mud; they both laughed at each other while she dragged herself up once again. "Nev?"

"What?"

"Race you home!" And with that Bran sped off up the hill with the game hosted over his shoulders. Neva barely had time to process what he had said before he was already metres in front of her. Her feet began to pound on the mud, leaves parted ways as she ran as fast as she could possibly run. A short few moments later; her eyes spotted her home, but she could hear shouting. She felt hands grab her back, it was Bran. He put his finger over her mouth, his face was different now, serious. The deer was on the floor a few metres back.

"Shhh…" He whispered as quiet as he could. He then began sneaking towards their house, she followed and after a few minutes her house was in plain sight. A sharp intake of breath from Bran worried her, and then she saw them. About ten men and women, in golden armour, elven armour. They were all elves of course. Neva's parents had warned her about the Thalmor.

"They don't like Talos…do they?" Neva whispered to her brother.

"No. They don't." Bran held her close while they watched them circle around their house. Three of them stepped up onto their porch and kicked the door down, screams erupted from inside as her mother and father were forcefully dragged out by two of the men. One remained inside.

"Farah and Enrik Winter-Blood, you have been found guilty of Talos worship. You are hereby sentenced to death by the Aldmeri Dominion and-"A tall elven women read out commands from a piece of parchment, but was interrupted by her father.

"You have no right, fucking elves destroying Skyrim-"Neva's father was interrupted by a harsh punch to the face, he fell to the ground with a thud. Neva could take no more, she wriggled out of her brother's grasp and stumbled out of the bushes in tears.

"No! You can't do this!" She screamed at them, crying uncontrollably.

"Neva! No!" Bran stumbled out behind her, failing to catch her. Neva was grabbed by a man; her bow knocked aside, he was an Elf, like the others. Bran was also kicked down to his knees and restrained.

"Well, well, well. Your children, I presume?" The tall elvish woman strolled over to Neva, a dagger in hand; she placed it on her face, just to the right of her left eye and cut her, deep.

"Get your fucking hands off her" Bran screamed and kicked at his captor, with no avail. Neva could feel warm blood dripping down face, and onto the ground. Her mother was crying, her long red hair dangling helplessly in front of her face. Her father was being beaten, his teeth had been scattered across the path and the blood had soaked into his clothes. She could hear the remaining soldier in her house, trashing everything.

"Let's get this over with" A tall elf, unsheathed a blade and set it onto her father's throat. "Any last words, nord?" The nord was too beaten to speak, speaking became even more difficult when the elves blade sliced her father's throat open, blood spilled onto the floor.

Neva stopped breathing, her entire world blurred around her and she screamed. She screamed and she didn't stop until she heard Brans voice again.

"Neva, look at me, look at me" He shouted over her screams "Just keep looking at me, everything will be alright. Remember what I taught you" Her mind searched through all of the things he had taught her, but she couldn't focus because of her mother's screams. "Imagine yourself hitting the target"

And with that, Bran overpowered his captor and kicked him away. He then shoved his sword through the man holding Neva and helped her up. She was watching her mother, they looked at each other while they both mouthed '_I love you'_, before they slit her throat too.

"Neva! Run! Fucking run!" Bran was fighting off two men, trying his best to hold them off so his sister could get away. "RUN! And don't stop!" Neva spun around and began to run, but before she did she picked up her bow and aimed, imagined herself hitting the target, one of the men fighting Bran. He fell to the ground blood spurting from his neck. "Run! I'll catch up!"

She began to run, faster than she ever had before, down into the forest, past the deer. When she glanced back, she saw Bran being dragged away into a carriage with her parents. _Run!_ He'd said, _don't stop_. And that is exactly what she did. She ran from the yelling of the elves, the smoke from her now burning home and the heartache she had just witnessed.

She was alone.


	2. Nightfall

_I'm sorry for the long wait for this chapter, I have been insanely busy with school and studying. I hope I can keep updating as much as I can. Anyhow, enjoy this chapter and I wish you a wonderful day :)_

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><p><strong>4E 201<strong>

"But this land is ours and we'll see it wiped clean, of the scourge that has sullied out hopes and our dreams"

The singing of men slowly died down, and moment's later laughter erupted in the camp. A huge fire pit in the middle of the camp blazed and ash flew just outside the pit. Around fifteen men sat on small stools around the fire pit talking and laughing with tankards of mead in their hands. Among the men, Ulfric Stormcloak and his next in command; Galmar Stone-Fist, along with his nephew, Ivan Stone-Fist.

"Can I have your attention everyone?" Ulfric stood up from his seat, his fur coat hung freely on his back. "I would like to propose a toast, to our own Ivan Stone-Fist; you have been a valuable asset to our cause these past few years. You're like your uncle in so many ways"

"Except the looks, his mother gave him those" Galmar interrupted laughing.

"You saved my life from the attack at Helgen, barely weeks ago. But now, I fear that the war has barely begun. You will have a lot more on your hands than you do now, training every new recruit, it will be tough. It will be tough for all of us, but we _will_ win this war!" Cheers erupted from the camp once again, Ivan was patted forcefully on his back multiple times by his uncle, who obviously did not know his own strength. Then again, neither did Ivan. He was well built, tall and all of the women in Windhelm essentially threw themselves at him.

After the speech, Ivan slightly blushed; it was a great honour to be toasted by Ulfric.

"Now, I suggest you all finish your drinks soon, we all need a lot of rest for tomorrow's journey back to Windhelm" And with that, Ulfric sat back down next to Galmar and the loud chattering returned throughout the camp. Ivan sat in between Galmar and his acquaintance, Jorl; and as Galmar and Ulfric chatted about the upcoming battles and strategies, Ivan turned to talk to Jorl.

"Look at you, eh? Twenty five and already the Jarl's pet" Jorl joked while taking a large gulp of mead. "We haven't had a proper chat since we left Windhelm, 'ave we?"

"No, you've been too busy at the brothels we've passed" Ivan replied as his friend scoffed.

"How's the work at the grounds…er…what do you actually do again?" He enquired while swishing his tankard around.

"Captain of the holds guard and I plan most of the strategies for our forces" Ivan explained, Jorl nodded; understanding. Jorl was older than Ivan, by quite a few years actually. His beard had wisps of grey tangled in the mangy mess of black hair; he looked younger than he actually was, and the grotesque burn on his face made his entire appearance intimidating to say the least. After a few long moments, Jorl stood and left to refill his mead before retiring to his tent. Ivan swivelled around to face his Uncle and Ulfric; they were completely engaged in conversation, he didn't want to interrupt so he politely stood and headed for his tent.

oOo

It was lighter in the tent thanks to the candles, it smelt of leather and damp but for the past week it was the smell he was used to. He stood in front of the wash basin and splashed his face with cool water, and rubbed his face dry with a cloth, his ash blonde hair was a complete mess. Suddenly, a commotion outside attracted his immediate attention; the men were not laughing, chatting and singing anymore, but shouting and clashing of steel and the cry of their horses. Immediately, he rushed outside with his sword and shield firmly in his hands.

It was the Thalmor, and some Imperials; they'd ambushed the camp. The sound of clashing steel filled the air; and curses shouted out on both sides. It began to snow as the battle raged on, Ivan knew he had to act. Running into the battle he searched frantically for Ulfric and his Uncle, they were both in the midst of the battle; trying desperately not to lose this fight.

"Ivan! Get over here!" Galmar commanded while holding off two bulky Thalmor soldiers. Ivan sprinted towards them, smashing down his sword down on one of the soldiers, there was a sickening crack and he fell to the ground. Galmar made quick work of the other soldier, kicking him to his knees and then sliding his sword through the back of his neck. "We were ambushed!" Galmar barked above the battle. Ivar spun around to be greeted with the clashing of steel, he fought back using all of his strength. As he pushed him away with his shield, he noticed the sound in the camp was slowly disappearing; the battle was dying and he was not sure which side was winning. He made quick work of the Thalmor soldier and took a short moment to look around, only Ulfric, Galmar, Tor and himself were left, against five Thalmor soldiers. He was interrupted by a sickening blow to his head; he fell, hard. Still half-conscious, he watched as his leader, uncle and friend all were defeated and tied up in rough ropes, and beaten in the name of the empire. Everything went black.

oOo

"Wake up, lad" Galmar whispered while nudging him harshly. He sluggishly opened his eyes and immediately felt the aching in his skull which felt as if a horker had been dropped on top of him. The Thalmor, four of them, were tending to each other's wounds while the last man stood guard. Ivan felt sharp ragged rope digging into his wrists and feet, and then he realised he wasn't the only one tied up; Ulfric, Galmar and Tor were also pinned against the tree. Tor was in bad shape, a gaping wound hugged his abdomen; bleeding vigorously. The camp was littered with bodies of Stormcloaks and Thalmor, blood and guts spewed across the dirt.

"Ivan. Can you grab my dagger from my pocket?" Galmar whispered. Ivan looked at him in disbelief, was he really considering fighting their way out? "Don't look at me like that, son. I'd rather die fighting than be slaughtered like livestock" _He has a point_, Ivan thought. But he was not so sure he was ready to die so soon.

He shuffled closer to Galmar, somehow managing to undo the clasp on his dagger; he pulled it out and began to cut the rope binding his hands.

"Celoril, come over here and I will clean your wounds" An older elven woman beckoned the man guarding them over, he obliged. _Perfect. _And at that precise moment, Ivan cut through the rope.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" An elegant voice emerged from behind them, it was one of them, the Thalmor. "Untie the prisoners, we'll execute them now" It was a woman, she wall tall and her long blonde hair was raked back into a knot; age lines swam around her face, it looked like she hadn't smiled in years.

"As you wish, Captain" Three of the soldiers stood up from the stools and untied the four of them. Tor groaned as they dragged them to an open space and kicked everyone aside but Ulfric. He was kneeled in the middle of the space, mouth gagged, eyes empty like always. The bodies of his deceased friends stared up at him with soulless eyes.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Murderer of High King Torygg. Leader of the rebellion. On this day, the empire sentences you to death. Any last words?" The Captain removed his gag to reveal a small smirk "I fight for my home, at least I will die with honour" He said, no emotion in his aging face.

"Celoril, my sword" The Captain commanded the elf, she unsheathed her sword to reveal a beautiful golden sword covered with small details. The Elves always knew how to make beautiful weapons. "I think honour is not the correct word to use, Ulfric" She raised her sword, Galmar and Ivan gasped but did not look away. The Thalmor had smug expressions of victory on their faces. Tor was sprawled out on the floor, not moving, Ivan didn't even know if he was breathing.

The sword was raised high in the air, Galmar began fighting to get free of his bounds but he couldn't as the soldiers had held him down. The camp was silent for a short moment, this was it; Ulfric was going to die. But before Ivan could look away, an arrow shot straight through the Captains chest, it wasn't one of their arrows, it was different. Blood spurted from her mouth as she lowered her sword, the Thalmor immediately jumped into action, running towards Ulfric to stop him getting free but they were too late. Another arrow flew, hitting Celoril in the eye socket. _Who was doing this?_ Ivan jumped up and elbowed one of the soldiers hard, after hearing the crack in his nose he kicked him to the ground and took his dagger to pass to Galmar. He heard the thud and crunch of Ulfric battling with two of the men, Ivan took his dagger from his boot and slit one of the soldier's throats. Everything was silent again except for the gurgling of the men choking in their own blood. They all looked at each other, baffled. _Who _had just saved their lives?

"Who's out there?" Ulfric roared. "Be a man and come out of the shadows, I wish to thank you" A rustle of bushed came from the left side of the camp, a dark shadow hopped down gracefully from the old oak tree which stood higher than any other. The ominous figure emerged gradually from the darkness of the forest.

It was not a man, but a woman. Slightly smaller than himself, she had a dark hood covering her eyes but her brunette hair fell past her shoulders. Her armour looked different, nothing a blacksmith would sell, and she held up a blackened bow, with hints of crimson painted around the body.

"We do not wish to hurt you" Ulfric coolly said while he gently walked towards her. She inspected each one of them, looking at their clothes and the camp too. Until her eyes met Tor's body, who was almost lifeless on the ground in a pool of his own blood – groaning.

"What happened to him?" She asked, her hood still covering her face.

"He was injured in the ambush. Please, lower your weapon, lass" Galmar interrupted before Ulfric could reply. And so she did, with great uncertainty; her bow was placed back onto her black with her arrows. For a moment she studied Ivan, he could feel her eyes on him even though he could not see them; she lifted her hood to reveal a pale face, emerald eyes and a scar just to the right of her left eye. Ivan thought she was beautiful.

"What is your name, lass?" Galmar asked her, while wiping the blood away from his face.

"Neva" Her voice echoed through the valley as the silence began to disperse at the coming of dawn.


	3. The Road to Windhelm

_Hey guys sorry for the wait, I have been really busy but the third chapter is finally finished! Have a wonderful day!_

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><p><em>What have I gotten myself into? <em>Neva thought, scolding herself as she rode on her newly acquired steed. It was approaching nightfall, she hadn't slept that night; she had been too busy saving Tor. Her hands were sore from grinding blue mountain flowers and wheat for the health potions, she had been given the horse of one of the dead men; it was friendly enough, its sleek black hair glittered in the setting sun. Of course, she wasn't being held against her will, she had after all accepted Ulfric's reward, ten thousand gold; problem was, she had to travel with them to Windhelm to receive it. Typical. _I'm only going for the gold, _she told herself over and over again, but in truth there was another reason she was going, but she didn't exactly know _what._

Ulfric's horse stopped, and he cranked his body around to shout back to Galmar, Ivan and herself. Tor was strapped onto the back of Galmar's horse, he was still weak after Neva stopped the bleeding last night. "We should set up camp" Neva sighed to herself, they had been riding for almost two days and her behind was sore. They rode for a few more minutes down the road until they stopped again at a small cavern which was not too far from the path. It was quite deep but dry, which was all Neva cared about; she really loathed sleeping in the rain, no matter how hot and humid it was.

The young man with the ash blonde hair (who she now knew as Ivan) began collecting small scrapes of wood, piling them on top of each other. He looked confused when the fire would not catch, and began to become frustrated.

Neva shook her head and shooed him away while she dismembered his pile and began to build a conical shaped mass of wood; she gathered some dry hay which was littered around their camp and carefully placed it in the middle of the mass. "Try it now" Neva told him while standing up. When her back was turned, she heard the clashing of rocks and the familiar spark of flames; followed by the warmth of the flames.

"How did you do that?" He questioned her, but Neva did not answer; she only shrugged and sat on a rock in the far corner of the cavern. If Tor hadn't been grumbling and groaning in pain, she would have happily drifted off to sleep; but she wasn't used to being around people and she defiantly did not trust them, she'd only known them for one day after all. So when Ulfric offered her to come sit by the fire and have something to eat; she hesitated, but agreed reluctantly.

The fire crackled away while Ivan collected larger sticks and logs to place onto the fire, he eventually sat down inbetween Neva and Ulfric, she thought that he smelt like warm bread and pine needles. Tor's bedroll was by the fire, he seemed to be sleeping now, but she noticed his dressings needed changing; a thick brown gunk swarmed around his bandages. Galmar must have noticed her inquisitive look towards Tor as he handed her the knapsack she had been using which had contained potions, but it now contained Neva's alchemy supplies which she harvested as they travelled. It was full of wrapped ingredients, pots and mixing bowls along with ripped cloth for dressings. She knelt down on the ground and began crushing a mixture of things together, while adding boiling water now and again. Eventually, a thick warm paste clung to the sides of the mixing bowl; using her fingers she slowly spread the paste along Tor's wound and wrapped it with warm dressings.

"Neva" Ulfric said as she sat back down around the fire "Where are you from?" There was momentary silence among the camp as he waited patiently for an answer.

"I was born just outside of Oakwood" She responded shyly, while wiping her hands with a cloth.

"Ah, yes. I used to be sweet on a girl from there" Galmar laughed to himself as he rubbed his hands in front of the fire. "Stew?" Galmar offered Neva a bowl, she gladly took it from him and began eating, she defiantly was not used to the bland flavour, soldiers had many talents but cooking was not one of them.

"And where do you reside now?" Ulfric asked. But he received no reply this time, she didn't want these people to know everything about her, even if they were fighting for her home. Instead she looked at him, and he seemed to understand that she was not willing to answer. "We should arrive in Windhelm by midday tomorrow if we move quickly. So make sure to get plenty of rest tonight, I will take first watch" He looked at Tor and then back at Neva "will he survive the night?" He asked.

"Probably" She replied as she put her bowl of stew down and walked over to the corner of the camp, where her bedroll was.

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><p>She lay there for what seemed like hours, her mind was rushing with thoughts throughout the night. <em>Why did I save them? Why didn't I just turn the other way? Why am I still with them? Why did I save Tor? <em>She still kept telling herself that it was just about the money, she desperately needed the septims, she needed to get away from Skyrim, settle down somewhere else – Cyrodiil maybe?

But she knew that there was something else that made her save them, was it because he was the leader of the rebellion? Maybe a slight glimmer of hope that Skyrim could be saved from the vicious grasp of the elves? She didn't know, all she knew is that as soon as her eyes fell shut – the nightmares began.

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><p>Neva awoke cold and covered in sweat, her entire body shook with fear as she bolted upright. For some reason she couldn't catch her breath, the crackle of flames and howl of wolves echoed in her ears.<p>

"Are you okay?" She heard a voice from the other side of the cave, for a second she forgot where she was, but then she remembered. It was Ivan, he was sitting by the fire prodding the wood with a stick; Tor lay beside him, pale and sickly.

"Yes" She replied, still urgently attempting to catch her breath. For a few short moments she sat up right, staring around the room – the chill from the cold stone floor had chilled her bones and she could no longer feel her fingers. Reluctantly, she moved to the fire – where Tor's ghastly appearance became apparent. She grabbed the knapsack and pulled out some more ingredients, Ivan's eyes followed her every move, attempting to learn from her. But as soon as she pulled back the dressing, a foul sharp stench erupted from the festering wound. "By the nine…"

"What? What's wrong?" Ivan stood up and rushed to Tor's side, gasping at the state of his wound. The skin was dark greenish, with hints of brown, old blood, and chunks of flesh had begun to curl away.

"Poison…" Neva frantically removed her dagger from her waist and hoisted it into the hot coals of the fire. "It's an Elven poison, it remains idle until the wound begins to heal, and then it eats away at the flesh"

"How do you know?" He asked curiously. But Neva shot him a look and he bowed his head. "What do you want me to do?"

"You're going to have to hold him down" Neva began unwrapping the wound and attempting to clean the poison, Tor began to groan and strain as he slowly awoke.

"What? Why?" Ivan looked alarmed as he watched.

"Just do it!" She shouted viciously, which woke Ulfric; who was equally shocked to see Ivan now holding down his friend.

"By the Nine, what is going on?" He balled, but then soon realised the awful state Tor was in. He knelt down and held his soldier down by his legs, and Ivan held his arms.

Neva grabbed her now scolding hot dagger with a piece of cloth and began cutting at his skin where the poison had infected; and she'd never heard anything like the screams coming from Tor's mouth, he barely had time to breath in between screams of pain. Ivan and Ulfric tried to hold him down but one arm broke free and knocked Neva backwards, her arm landing in the searing coals.

"Fuck!" Neva cursed in pain. Galmar was now wide awake and bewildered; but he eventually helped hold Tor down too. Neva scraped herself back up and cut all of the flesh away which had been killing him slowly. When there was no more flesh to cut away, she seared the wounds with a hot metal knife, and then she applied more healing paste to his wound and slouched down next to the boulder, he was going to be okay.

"Here, let me look at that" Galmar rested Tor's body down onto his bedroll again, his breathing was hindered but the colour was slowly coming back to his face. He sat down next to Neva and lifted up her arm – inspecting the blistering burn on her upper arm. Neva flinched as he touched it.

"Leave it" Neva snatched her arm away, taking Galmar by surprise, she saw him look at Ulfric; his eyes wondering what to say and do. Neva trudged over to her bedroll; she removed her gloves and concentrated all of her inner energy to create a small ball of beautiful light. Her hand followed the burns on her arm, healing them instantly, there was still a scar, but scars were nothing unusual anymore. A warm sensation circulated around the area which had just been healed.

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><p>By the time Windhelm came into view, it was early afternoon; they had been slightly delayed when Tor fell off his horse and snapped the rope which was holding him there, but they had fixed it soon enough. He was doing okay now, the poison had not spread and the wound was not infected.<br>Neva had never travelled to Windhelm, the biggest city she had been to was Falkreath; she sat on her horse in awe of the ancient city, but she knew they'd but a lot of Elves there and this seriously unnerved her. The bridge leading up to the city was covered in snow, but it like it was in grave disrepair. As the Ulfric rode up to the stables; he dismounted his horse and an Altmer man took the reins and led it into the stables. Neva turned her nose up in disgust.

After jumping down from her horse, she untied her knapsack from the saddle and the elf took it away to its own section of the stables. For a moment she stood gazing up at the city, she was shivering but had a sense of hope; hope for what? She didn't know.

The wind slashed into her skin viciously when she strolled across the bridge with Ulfric, Ivan, Galmar and Tor. It was a good ten minutes before they reached the large iron gates. The two guards stood attentive, with their hands ready on their swords and their cloaks flying in the wind.

"Jarl Ulfric" They said in sync as they approached. As soon as Ulfric wavered his hand for them to open the gates, they both bowed respectfully and pushed open the giant doors.

Neva was greeted with huge stone building throughout the city, snow resting of the ground and the slight sound of the market around the corner. A man lay drunk of the stone cobbles and dunmer women walked around with their heads bowed in shyness and fear. Icicles hung from the old buildings and braziers roared with fire, a homeless woman kept warm nearby. Sprouts of old bushes had forced their way through the stone cobbles and the tree looked as though they hadn't seen warm weather for centuries. There were almost twice as many guards as Falkreath, one of them rushed towards a huge palace; The Palace of the Kings when they spotted the Jarl. Ulfric turned towards Neva; and beamed at her. "Welcome to Windhelm. Follow me."

As they all walked through the city towards the palace; she noticed the strange looks she received from the citizens, it made her tremendously uncomfortable, but then again she couldn't blame them. But when she reached the doors of the palace, she forgot her worries and fears and gawped at the huge building before her. When she stepped inside, a gush of warm air hit her and the smell of roasting meat lingered in the air. She walked into a hall, it was huge; the stone walls towered above her. A large pastel blue woven rug lay on the floor, a huge feasting table was decorated with candles and cutlery. Stormcloak banners hung from the walls and delicately carved stone added a historic feel to the hall. Only a few small windows and some chandeliers lit up the hall. An older Nord man in fine clothes rushed up to Ulfric; he had a pile of papers with him and seemed frustrated.

"Jarl Ulfric, you're arrival was due two days ago" The man stated.

"Yes, that is correct, Jorleif" Ulfric began walking up to the end of the hall, where his throne sat. "We ran into some complications. I will explain later, call everyone to a council meeting in one hour"

Jorleifs eyes looked at Galmar, and Tor's unconscious body. His face twisted into an expression of confusion; but then he saw Neva, who was lurked behind Ulfric.

"And who is _this_?" He said as he gestured towards her.

"I said I would explain later, fetch twelve thousand septims from my chambers" Ulfric waved his steward away and walked the rest of his way to his throne and placed himself on it. Galmar rushed down one of the hallways with Tor "Ivan, we start early tomorrow, you will not be needed at the meeting. You have the rest of the day off" Ivan bowed to his Jarl and walked back out the doors. Neva thought the Jarl looked contempt on his throne, like he belonged there.

"Now, Neva, I have a proposition" He began, she heard the quiet rattle of coins coming from behind her; she adored that sound. "I wish for you to stay here, in Windhelm. You see, we have no talented archers to train our recruits, only men with a basic knowledge. To win this war, we need our army to be trained fully, including archery. I also see you have an excessive knowledge of alchemy and some other desirable skills. If you accept this offer, you will have a place on our council along with Tor when he is able, a room here in the palace and a steady amount of pay. I will give you until tomorrow to think it over"

Neva stood in front of the Jarl, silent, she had no words until Jorleif presented her with three large bags of septims.

"There is twelve thousand there, an extra two thousand for your actions last night – you saved one of my best trainers."

"Thank you, Jarl Ulfric" And with that she turned and walked out of the doors, she was completely stunned; still helplessly trying to take in the Jarls words. Why did he want _her_? Of all people in Skyrim, he wanted her to be in his council and to train his recruits? She just could not wrap her head around it. But now, she did not know what to do; should she just leave? Or actually think Ulfric's proposition over? Before she could make a decision, she heard a voice coming from behind her.

"Neva! Hey! Where are you going?" It was Ivan. "So what do you think about Ulfric's offer?"

"I…I don't know" She replied, her mind still in thought. "Do you know how to get to the inn?"

"Yeah, I'm headed there now for a drink" Ivan smiled at her, and then began walking down the steps. "I never got the chance to thank you" Neva stayed silent, as they approached the Inn. "We would all be dead if you weren't there" She still didn't say anything but nodded.

The inn was warmer than the Palace, and bustling with soldiers and guards. The smell of bread and stew hung in the air and music played from the second floor. The two of them walked up to the counter and Ivan ordered himself a mead, "I'll meet you upstairs" He said while patting her softly on the back. Neva ordered herself some strong ale and reserved a room for later, as she passed over the gold; she heard men standing behind her whistle. Disregarding them she proceeded to walk up to the second floor and sit next to Ivan, who was listening to the music.

* * *

><p>By the end of the night she was drained, for hours she had listened to Ivan talk about the rebellion, it was interesting to learn about their beliefs – primarily because they were so similar to her own. As she drank more and more ale, her mind set dwindled. Slowly but surely, her mind wrapped around the idea of staying in Windhelm, and before Ivan left to go back to the Palace, she stopped him when he was about to open the door.<p>

"Tell the Jarl that I accept his offer" Ivan grinned at her, and then nodded gratefully. He walked out of the door, and almost fell down the steps. Perhaps she accepted because she wanted a change? But on the other hand it may have been because she was somewhat drunk.

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><p><em>I know these first few chapters have been slightly boring, but I'm just trying to warm up to the story before I jump into the main story line I've come up with!<em>


	4. Back to Work

_Hey guys, another boring chapter I guess, but I am aware that I have added a lot more to the Palace of the Kings, such as more rooms and grounds. Enjoy, kiddies!_

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><p>Bright morning rays soared through Ivan's bedroom window making his eyelids flicker until they eventually opened. It was early, but everyone in the palace woke up at the break of dawn. His aches and pains had disappeared after a long nights sleep in his own bed; but the problem was, he didn't want to leave his bed. The excessive amount of mead he had consumed last night probably had something to do with it. That was until he smelt the cooks delicious honey glazed braided bread, the smell practically picked him out of his bed and guided him towards his dresser. His room was quite large and decorated with Stormcloak banners, next to the wardrobe was the door to his study.<p>

His lighter armour was tucked safely in the top drawer, he grabbed it from the drawer and began removing his soft trousers which he'd worn for sleeping in. The armour felt light and foreign on his body, over the past week or so he had been so used to wearing his hard and heavy steel armour. The wash basin was next to the drawers, a small mirror hung above it. After splashing his face with cold refreshing water, he dried his face with a rough cloth and walked briskly towards the door.

His quarters was located down the first hall on the right, next to his uncles. The halls were always colder than the bedrooms and halls, they were narrow and bland; but after all they didn't need to be decorated. The main hall was much warmer thanks to the roaring fire, the table was neatly laid out and stacked with food. Bread rolls, braided honey glazed bread, sweetrolls, cream treats, apples, snowberries and fresh eggs swarmed the table; Ivan felt his stomach growl with desire.

Jarl Ulfric, Galmar and Jorleif sat around the top end of the table; Tor was probably not able to join them yet. Ivan sat himself next to his uncle, opposite Jorleif; Ivan had never liked the steward, he seemed too arrogant for his own good. The Jarl sat at the very top of the table, munching on some honey glazed bread.

"Neva accepted your offer, my Jarl" Ivan spoke with respect as he snatched a sweetroll from one of the plates in the centre of the table.

"Ah yes, that is good news. Jorleif, send a guard to inform her to be at the Palace at midday"

"Yes, my Jarl" Jorleif bowed his head and silently left the table. Ivan noticed Galmar grinning curiously at him.

"What?" Ivan asked aggressively.

"So, lad. You were with Neva last night?" He chortled. Ivan sighed as his neck blushed pink.

"We went for a few drinks down at the inn" Ivan scowled. "What of it?"

"Didn't expect you to go for the cold-hearted and mysterious type" Galmar laughed loudly again.

"Now, now, Galmar, try your best not to embarrass your nephew" Ulfric smirked to himself as he finished off his sweetroll. "When you're both finished, I wish for you to begin your duties immediately, we have a lot to prepare for." Ivan looked at his Jarl with an inquisitive look. "The Imperials are claiming forts from bandits, suspiciously around Dawnstar and Riften. Many patrols have spotted them, we need to do something about it"

"How many do we know of?"

"Three so far" And with that Ulfric left the table and headed for the war room, Galmar closely followed.

* * *

><p>After breakfast, Ivan headed for the west training grounds to brief his guards of the upcoming plans. It was freezing outside, he could smell a storm brewing; which he was used to, and living in Windhelm he had become accustomed to snow storms. The training yard had been repaired and expanded in the previous months. It was once small and enough to train the cities guards, but since the war begun the Jarl tripled the size of the yard, as well as adding a second smaller training yard east of the palace; but that was only for the occasional duel. All of his guards were lined up as soon as he entered the yard; they weren't new guards, but they were not experienced either. Ivan stood in front of the twenty or so men.<p>

"Morning men, I hope you are all well. I am aware that my absence has had an effect on your training schedules, but now that I am back, we will be training twice as hard, five days a week, eight hours a day, no exceptions" A groan erupted from the men, Ivan had known that they would not exactly like the new routine, but they'd have to get used to it.

Around five hours later, Ivan noticed the Jarl and Neva enter the yard; all of his men were sparring with each other, apart from the odd few who were practicing their strikes on mannequins. The Jarl was wearing his heavy bear skin cloak and Neva still wore her armour, which beautifully complemented her curvy figure, outlining her waist and breasts- _stop it, Ivan, don't get distracted. _

"Ivan, I wish to introduce Neva to the guards, if they are not too busy" The Jarl asked as he walked up to Ivan, Neva followed close behind; her hood wasn't up and he wondered if he should smile at her. Ivan shook his head as a reply.

"Men, gather round, the Jarl wishes to speak with you all" Ivan raised his voice so that they would all hear his commands, within moments the men had gathered in two lines in front of the line.

"I wish to introduce you all Neva Winter-Blood, she will be providing expert training in archery" Neva stood by Ulfric silently, not saying a word, but Ivan could hear the whispers among the men, whispers he would not care to repeat or even acknowledge. "Out of the eight hours of training you will have, two of those hours will be dedicated to archery once a week. Now, get back to training" The men dispersed, all still whispering and inspecting Neva; with greed in some of their eyes.

"Only _once_ a week?" Neva asked the Jarl, frowning.

"The soldiers will need more work than the hold guards, after all, the soldiers will be the ones fighting"

"When do you start?" Ivan asked Neva before she turned to leave with the Jarl.

"Morndas" She said while glancing back at him.

When they both left the training yard, the chatter started up in the yard, which Ivan unfortunately overheard. "Back to training!" Ivan yelled aggressively. The guards separated and began sparring again. He noticed two of the guards, Botvar and Jorn, struggling with their axe swings.

"Lads, you're swings are sloppy, use all of your strength" He took the axe from Jorn's hand and swung forcefully at the mannequin, creating a sharp slash. "See?" They both nodded, grinning; Ivan glared at them suspiciously. "_What_?"

"Wasn't she the lass you were drinking with last night, sir?" Jorn winked at him suggestively, and Botvar sniggered. "Is she good?" Ivan knew what they were suggesting, and anger grew inside of him.

"Back to training!" He bellowed, startling them. But when he turned his back he heard the sniggers again.

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><p>It was late afternoon by the time Ivan finished training, he began to head back to the Palace to finish some schedules. The snow had eased up for now but it would surely become stronger by nightfall. Ivan spotted Neva sitting on the steps outside the Palace, she looked deep in thought so Ivan speculated whether he should approach her or not. Eventually he decided to engage in conversation.<p>

"Aren't you cold?" _Good one, Ivan. _

"No" She answered, not looking at him.

"Is there something on your mind?" He sat down next to her, the stone was cold and uncomfortable. There was silence for a long while, he could tell she was still making up her mind about him.

"It's going to take time for me to adjust" She began "and I'm not sure that accepting the position was the right choice to make"

"How come?"

"I've never had any responsibilities, and I" She finally looked at him, and then shook her head. "Never mind".

"Ulfric has a good sense for people, he would not have chosen you if he thought you were incapable" Ivan responded "Why _did_ you accept?" Silence filled the air. Neva opened her mouth to reply but then shook her head, she stood up and brushed the snow from her armour, then headed quickly towards the palace.

Ivan sighed and rubbed his eyes, he was completely exhausted. _Why is it so hard for her to talk to him?_ He thought to himself as he stood up and headed to the Palace.

* * *

><p>Ivan slumped back in his chair at his desk, he'd been planning strategies for the upcoming weeks for hours, his candle wick was sizzling in a pool of hot wax and he could tell that supper was almost ready; the delicious mixture of cooking food weaved its way through the doors of his bedroom and then into his study. He hadn't eaten much since late morning when he snacked on some more honey glazed bread, so his stomach growled with hunger. He thought that if he just closed his eyes for a few minutes, he may conserve some more energy – but his planned rest was disturbed by a knocking at his door. He heard Galmar calling for him. "Food is ready, lad" Ivan dragged himself up from his chair and walked to the hall.<p>

The servants were laying the food out on the top end of the table, Neva sat on one side on the table, Jorleif, Wuunferth and Galmar on the other, and the Jarl at the very top of the table; as always. He sat next to Neva and smiled cautiously in her direction, she remained silent – and did not return that smile.

The old oak table was decorated with plates upon plates of food, pork, beef, chicken, bread, fruit, vegetables and oven roasted potatoes – the smell was divine. One of the servants began cutting the joints of meat into thick slices, Ivan happily grabbed two of everything – as he wolfed his supper down, Neva politely took some pork and beef from the middle of the table along with some bread and vegetables, and she ate shyly with respectful table manners.

"Now, we need to discuss the matter of the Imperials" The Jarl began while cutting some more pork "I trust you have the strategies ready?" He looked at Ivan.

"Yes" He passed the papers over the table for Ulfric to see, the Jarl glanced through them and handed them to Neva "Any thoughts?" Ivan glanced at Neva curiously, he'd always planned the strategies, but always felt that the archers were always in the wrong place; always in the way.

"The archers are positioned wrong" She began, frowning at the paper. "They'd be better split, I think. One half here" She gestured towards the positions on the paper. "And the other here" _That makes more sense_, Ivan thought. "That way, you'd have the Imperial's covered from both sides" The Jarl and Galmar nodded in agreement and smiled, Neva bowed her head awkwardly and continued eating after she'd handed the papers back to Ivan.

"So, I see you know more about strategy than we thought" Ivan said, also smiling. "It'd be great if you could help me place the archers, I don't know much about archery myself" Neva nodded as she glanced at him, her hair was scraped back into a small bun; and her eyes looked tired and empty.

"Wuunferth, how is Tor?" Galmar asked while tucking into a slice of bread with butter smothered on top of it.

"He is doing well, he should be able to get back to work in a few days" Wuunferth was an old man, with great talent, but with that came great arrogance.

"We're going to need him"

* * *

><p>Once they had finished eating, Ulfric dismissed everyone and directed Ivan to show Neva to her new room, he gave him the key. Her room was down the first hall, next to Tor's. As he unlocked the door, she saw Neva's eyes watching him. Her room was as big as Ivan's, the exact same size actually, but the furniture was arranged differently, it looked less decorated than Ivan's. Neva walked around the room, inspecting everything. Her bed was made and it was positioned next to the window, and her washroom on the far side of the room, just like his.<p>

"Your bed will be made every day and there will be fresh water every morning" Ivan explained. "If you have any other belongings, I will send a courier to fetch them?" Neva stopped and shook her head solemnly, Ivan was going to ask why, but decided against it. He walked further into her room, and showed her into her study. It was bare, no wall decorations and no ornaments. "I will ask a servant to bring you hot water for a bath?" He nodded towards the washroom, she thought for a second and then accepted. "Do you have any other clothes?"

"No"

"I will show you the market tomorrow morning, and introduce you to our blacksmith" He clarified and then left the room. Ivan called for a servant and instructed them to bring hot water to her room, as well as some snowberry soap.


End file.
